The Midgar School for Talented Youth
by Reno a la Turk
Summary: Take FFVII. Keep the plotlne, the characters, the events and most of the happenings; condense it to a few months. Put it in a highschool to college level environment. I will break the bad stereotype or die trying. [R for language and violent content]
1. Welcome to the rest of your Life

[[Author Forewords ---  Well, after eating this story, chewing it around, showing a few people and spitting it out a few times, I've decided to post it here.  Thanks to Mellon, Soshi and the Ryn for looking through this and keeping me working.  I know the school plot is overdone.  But I'm going to plunge into it headfirst and I will come out successfully portraying character and customizing events so that they may occur with a nice bit of immaturity.  Have fun.]]

            The wind blew sickly through the autumn trees.  Leaves scattered across the ground and then picked up and flew.  They made tiny chittering sounds as they skipped before flight and it sounded as if they were bidding the earthly world a good night.  They spiraled into the slate coloured sky and disappeared into the sea of browns and reds.  The wind would die but they wouldn't come back, like souls detached from their bodies. 

            The campus was deathly still other than that.  Occasionally an older student would walk along the sidewalks and into another building and then the leaves would be all that moved.  It was the first day for the new students; the hand-chosen few who had been invited to attend.  They were all in the theatre, crammed in and squeezed together, awaiting the speech from their headmaster.  It was clear that the groups were already separating themselves into factions as there were clear spaces between them.  So when new students filed in, they were sucked into one of the existing groups or ignore completely.  The stragglers sat in the middle of the theatre, in plain view for everyone else to see.  It was unfortunate to be one of them. 

            To the side near the stage was one particular group.  They were well groomed and seemed to look down upon everyone else for one reason or another.  They milled around one boy in particular, a smartly dressed 20-something with blonde hair.  He was probably cleanest of them all and stood out among them.  He was dressed in sharp white pants with a black dress shirt tucked into them carefully.  He held a long white jacket around his shoulders and gazed about with clear ice coloured eyes.  "They are all so... disgusting..." he murmured as he watched the last few people stumble in.  The dark haired young man standing stiffly beside him glanced at him questioningly.  "They are all so common.  Why does father cater to them...?" he continued.  He turned to the oriental eyes of his companion.  "They are not what I would've expected to accompany my arrival..." 

            "I wouldn't worry about them.  They are certainly something we could handle, should that be what you're worrying about," the white faced boy replied. 

            The blonde smiled slightly and flicked his bangs from his face.  "I know, Tseng.  I trust that you can take care of anything that goes amiss."  He looked at the faces around him and sighed.  "I'm quite sure.  You have proven yourself and your entire group's worth many times.  Something just makes me... suspicious..."  The blonde haired boy let his eyes travel around the room as he trailed off.  The red-haired boy sitting on the floor stopped his litany of complaints at the silence and the entire group was then quiet. 

            "Damned aristocrats..." 

            Across the other side of the room, another group stared at the clean-shaven quartet.  The speaker had been a muscular, dark skinned young man who towered over everyone around him.  He crossed his arms, glaring directly at the blonde youth.  "Makes me sick..." he muttered. 

            "Give it a rest, Barret.  You're going to have to deal with them for the next few years so you'd better just calm down." 

            The caramel skinned man turned to the well endowed girl next to him.  He snorted angrily but did stop his complaining.  Silence, however, was not a virtue that Barret possessed large amounts of and he soon resumed his train of thought.  "Jus' look at 'em.  They're sittin' there thinkin' they're all high an' mighty.  That pretty boy thinks he's so damned smart, don't he?  Wha'cha think, Tifa?  Think I should go muss his perfect hair?"  Tifa rolled her chocolate brown eyes and brushed a strand of maple coloured hair from her eyes.  She didn't even bother saying anything.  She knew that Barret would just find someone else to talk about even if he actually DID go and rough the 'pretty boy' up.  "Makes me sick..." he repeated, spitting on the cranberry carpet.

            "Watch it, Barret!"  The fiery haired girl sitting just inches away from where he spat looked up sharply.

She stared at the hulking brute of who she KNEW hadn't heard her and then snorted, going back to fabricating a new fake ID.  She was smiling slyly from the card, her cropped orange hair hidden under an old work hat.  She was proud of her IDs.  Very proud.

            "There's four of 'em..."  Barret continued.  "So that means we got one more than they do.  We got em outnumbered."  He nodded, seeming slightly eased at this.  He turned and flopped his huge bulk into the plush theatre seating and kicked his feet up over the seat.  "That's always a good thing."

            It was about that time that there was a series of loud crashes from just outside the doors to the auditorium.  Everyone seemed to lose interest in their previous movements, wondering what the hell could be making such a racket.  No one seemed to realize the gaunt man in the red suit take his place on stage.  His 'Welcome to the Midgar School for Talented Youth' speech was being largely ignored as the crashes grew more frequently.  Mere moments later the double doors flew open and standing silhouetted in the wake was quite a sight.

            The noisemaker removed his goggles and perched them atop his crown.  He shook all over like a stray dog and dust lifted from his clothing.  He ran a hand through his mussed golden hair and smiled lopsidedly.  Even the official looking man on stage couldn't help but stare.  Behind him, a slightly built blonde boy was cringing in the hall, obviously run over by the pilot.  It wouldn't have surprised anyone if there had been a dusty footprint right in the middle of his navy blue tank top.

            Just after the loud entrance, another boy blocked the doors.  He stepped carefully around the injured young man lying in the hall and peeked carefully around the shorter pilot.  His hair fell in front of his shoulders as he leaned in.  It was obvious that he was aware they were late and further more had interrupted the welcoming ceremonies.  He stood a sharp contrast to the faded blues and greens of the blonde, his white skin like carved ivory shrouded in black and red cloth.

            Like many chain reactions, the room burst into talk.  The red-headed boy standing near the stage shot up, nearly running into the well groomed blonde.  "Hey!  It's Vincent!" he shouted, pointing at the doorway.  The slightly taller cue ball followed his finger and a faint smile danced across his lips.  The fiery crested young man ran up towards the doors, his thin frame easily clearing a few rows of seats towards the end.  He clapped the dark boy on the back, smiling widely.  "Nice to see ya again, Vin!  Come on over here with us..." he cooed, grabbing Vin's arm and pulling him towards the rest of his group.  Truly startled, the dark haired boy could only be lead downwards.

            The pilot rubbed the back of his head, well knowing that all eyes were left on him.  "Hey... Don't mind me... Go back to the talking thingy..." he shouted, following closely behind Vincent.  Barret stood up instantly.

            "Hey!  What the hell are ya doin'?!" he yelled at the blonde man.  The pilot looked over his shoulder and blinked.

            "Er...  I'm followin' Vin!  Gotta problem with that?" he called back.

            "Yeah I got a problem with that!  You gonna sit over there with those snots who have their heads so far up their asses they gotta wear oxygen masks?"

            The pilot blinked but any response he would've given was cut short.  The scarlet haired boy fairly ran him over, growling audibly.  So audibly in fact, that Barret could hear him from across the room.  "Ya lousy jackass!  Go back to the fuckin' coal mine ya came from!" he shot back.

            "Why don'cha make me, PRINCESS!"

            "Practice fallin' down, I'll be there in a minute!"

            The crimson haired boy would've been had the bigger, bald member of his group not been quicker.  He kicked wildly, hoisted from the ground by his waist.  "DAMMIT RUDE, LET ME GO!  I'M GONNA TEAR THAT PANSY A NEW ASSHOLE!" he growled.  The cue ball held him as best he could but eventually lost his hold on the scrawny boy.  Falling to the ground, the redhead took little time to find his feet, sprinting through the aisles.  Barret left at the same time, the two foul tempered young men ready to bite each other's throats with their bared teeth.  The more level headed of each group seemed to follow in short suit, reaching desperately to try and stop the inevitable confrontation.

            The man on the stage had run the very edge and was waving wildly at the two groups who were about to clash.  "Stop!  I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour in my school!  Stop I say!" he yelled, failing to no avail.  The only ones who didn't run towards the middle of the room were the busty Tifa, the quiet boy Vincent and the blonde boy with his hair slicked back.  The blonde sighed a little, shaking his head and watched from his safe corner near the stage.

            The lanky flame haired boy leapt onto the row of seats to his side and vaulted into the air.  He nearly took the brute over backwards, landing directly on the larger man's massive chest.  With his huge tree trunk arms, Barret grabbed the scrawny boy by the shirt, tugging him roughly away.  It was at that second that the bald man from the group of clean cut young men stopped a few feet from Barret and let loose with a fierce right hook.  It caught the caramel skinned man right in the stomach and he yelped, dropping the hot-tempered youth.  The crimson haired boy dropped to the ground, crouching momentarily before readying for a second shot.  His leap was delayed severely by the orange haired girl of who had just reached the fight.  She stretched over the seats separating her from Barret and grabbed on of the loose shirt tails belonging to the antagonist and pulled sharply.  There was the soft play of ripping fabric and the boy fell to the floor, rolling under the chairs.  He reached out and pulled the girl's feet from under her, the fiery haired girl joining him on the floor.

            From there, chaos ensued.  Never one to miss the action, the pilot jumped into the fray, not really going after one side or the other.  He laughed hysterically and disappeared between a blue suited boxer and the hulking chocolate skinned grunt.  By that time, the oriental man had reached the scuffle and tried to pull the redhead away.  He was rewarded with a slug to his perfect jaw from the thrashing young man and dropped him instantly.  Two others from Barret's group had jumped into the fight, a more slightly built young man with dark hair and a rather round young fellow wearing a hat.  They jumped into the big mess and the shouts began even fiercer.

            There was a loud crack as one of the seats broke and a shoe flew into the air.  No one could really tell one side from the other, all persons involved seeming to have turned into a single throbbing organism.  The oriental looking blue suit ran into the battle finally, landing a solid blow on the leader of the rival group.  Barret stumbled over backwards, tripping on the orange haired girl and falling onto his back.  In mere moments, the blonde pilot flew on top of him, landing heavily on his cut caramel coloured chest.  Profanities from both of them sprayed into the air and everything went to hell.

            It was at that moment that reinforcements were called in.  From the double doors in the back of the room came a flood of blue clothed young men, all of which were covered completely in muscle.  They all had the same strange glowing blue eyes and all who saw them inwardly winced.  They moved swiftly into the brawl and began grabbing clothing, arms, legs, hair, pulling at anything they could and dragging the fighters apart.  The saner of the fighters broke easily from the fray but, naturally, Barret and the red haired boy wouldn't give in so easily.  Several of the blue eyed men were tossed aside as the brute swung his arms.  The lanky youth darted out of the way, vaulting over rows of seats to try to escape.  Eventually everyone was restrained, though some weren't the least bit happy about it.  They were lined up in front of the stage and they were then introduced to the Headmaster.

            "You all have surely made quite reputations for yourselves.  On the first day of school, you have not only been in a fight but you have single-handedly ruined my auditorium.  You all will be fined 1000 Gil for the damages and you are all to serve three days of In-School Suspension in the detention hall.  I hope you all have made yourselves quite HAPPY."  There was a large spat of venom at the end of the sentence and the red faced Headmaster turned on his heels and exited, stage left.

            The blue eyed young men lead the delinquents away, marching them through the double doors.  There was a queer sort of half smile on the red-head's face as he was escorted out, arms pinned behind his back and feet dragging on the ground.  He chuckled a little.

            "Well, at least I know I'll be able to PAY the fine, miner-boy," he cooed.  Barret growled softly but said nothing.  His big mouth had already gotten them in enough trouble.  

            The blonde boy watched from the corner of the stage as his entire group was lead away like prisoners.  He shook his head a little and walked after them casually.  He would be able to win a fair pardon for all of them.  After all, he was his father's son and there was no one more powerful on campus than the Headmaster's offspring.


	2. Long Division

[[Author's Notes --- Cid's Ode to In-School Suspension was based on an actual assignment that a fellow server of ISS got while I was in there. He was non-poetic so I rambled off a few verses, got into it and wrote it down. If anyone cares to know, I got two days for 'rude and insubordinate'.]]

 [[AN part 2 --- I'm sorry about the formatting problems. I misread the uploading thingers and got irritated and… well, you get the idea. Should be dandy now.]]

[[AN 3.0 --- HEY I FOUND THE LAST PART OF THIS CHAPTER LETS HEAR IT FOR ME WOOO]]

                In spite of the sentence, the entire slew of students had their terms reduced. Though he had only appealed to his own faction, Rufus had actually convinced his father to pardon the entire group. He simply flicked his blonde bangs from his eyes and sighed.   
                The detention hall was little more than an unused classroom, furnished with old desks and stiff carpeting. Upon being freed, the groups broke apart again, the blue suited young men staying to the opposite side of the room from the mismatched crew who had been imprisoned with them. They glared at each other, for a long while neither side saying a word. The only one who wasn't severely swayed one way or the other was the pilot. He sat right in the middle of the room, irritated with being put away for the remainder of the day and being fined money that he would've needed for food. The detention hall representative gave the stereotypical speech about why they were there and that they would be more harshly disciplined if they caused further trouble. She then left them to their own devices for the following hours. No one spoke to anyone else for quite some time. Eventually, both sides appealed to the pilot who was obviously the middleman.   
                "Hey... blondey... What's yer name?" Barret rumbled, looking at the pilot from the corner of his eye. The blonde looked up and cracked his neck stiffly.   
                "Highwind. Cid Highwind."   
                The redhead looked up from where he'd been resting his head. "So you're the pilot... right?"   
                Cid nodded, his brows furrowing a little. "How'd you know that?"   
                The boy laughed. "I know EVERYTHING. The name's Reno."   
                "You sure know how to be a real asshole..." Barret muttered, rolling his eyes.   
                "What was that, muscle-for-brains?" Reno snapped, his aquamarine eyes staring straight past Cid and to the hulking form seated across from him.   
                "Nothin'.... pansy..."   
                Reno jumped up but once again was halted by the bald man sitting beside him. He growled angrily but said nothing this time, knowing that he'd be likely to get expelled if he started another fight. Plus, it would already take him a few days to breath deeply again. He settled for simply flipping him off.   
                "My name's Barret," the chocolate skinned man continued. Cid turned back to him and nodded a little. Barret turned to the others in his group, pointing at all of them in turn. "The carrot-top is Jessie, the fat guy is Wedge an' that other guy over there is Biggs..." he mumbled. The pilot noted that all of them were a little worse for the wear, Jessie sporting a busted lip and Biggs with a scratch across his right eyebrow. He figured he had his own set of wounds but he really didn't care about them that much. Just a couple out of many.   
                Reno couldn't let Barret talk for long and interrupted again. "Ya don't want to fall in with them. They're all slum-shit," he reasoned. Barret let loose a wild string of curses but it seemed not to faze the crimson-haired boy in the least. "We're the Turks. That's Rude and over in the corner is Tseng. We're on the up-an'- up. Yer gonna be workin' with us ANYWAY." Reno paused, scratching just under the sunglasses perched on his forehead. "Yer buddy Vincent used to run with me. He's probably gonna end up bein' Turks material and get a seat right in with us."   
                Cid shrugged indifferently. They were two different sides with equal hate for each other. It really didn't matter to him which group chose him as their own. He didn't care. He wasn't going to change for either of them and that was that.   
                At that moment, the doors brushed open and the detention hall representative walked back in. She brushed her hair from her face and proceeded to inform them that they all had work to do. Mr. Shinra, the Headmaster, had ordered that they all apologize to the rest of the school for their disturbance. Each was given a separate assignment and all set grudgingly to work. Only one seemed a little happy for it. Cid went right to his assignment, ready to convey his piece of mind through his work. They would all read their various assignments over the television system the next morning. Cid was going to make sure he was heard.   
                The following morning, everyone who was involved in the fight appeared on the video system, all in various conditions of sleep. Barret snored and it kept almost all of the Turks awake. The only one not affected seemed to be Cid of who's subconscious waged a snore war. He was the last to read his paper to the camera and grinned slightly.   
                "I was assigned to write an ode about In-School. I hope you all enjoy it...   
  
_                In school is not my place to be   
                In it my friends I cannot see   
                When I leave I'll be full of glee   
                'Cause I will be out of In-School   
  
                Because of my temper, I got caught   
                I screamed and ranted and cursed a lot   
                I got in trouble because I fought   
                And it landed me here in In-School   
  
  
                In a cold room is where we stay   
                Sitting and told to work all day   
                And when waiting so we can go away   
                We get in trouble in In-School   
  
                When I get out, I will think twice   
                Before I add some much needed spice   
                When the teachers are looking, I'll be nice   
                So delinquency don't land me in In-School." _  
  
                Upon finishing, Reno cheered, raising his bloody knuckles to the ceiling in agreement. Cid laughed and was pushed off camera. In the background, everyone could hear him getting yelled at for the last verse. That was how the first official day of classes started. It followed smoothly afterwards with the exception of demerits being handed out to the pilot and Turk for their insubordination and rudeness. In all, it hadn't been so bad.   
  
                For others, the first day of classes was akin to a day in Hell. The boy that had been so carelessly run over by Cid Highwind had found himself in a very uncomfortable situation. His only friend on campus was a returning student and he hadn't the slightest clue where to find him. Everywhere he asked, he met with the same litany of responses. 'What's with your hair?' 'Why do you want him?' 'Stupid freshman!' He eventually just gave up. That was when it happened.   
                He was coming out of the boy's bathroom near the dining hall, trying to remove the last of a barbecue stain from his blue shirt. He was, naturally, what everyone used for target practice during the first food fight of the year. He groaned unhappily and raised his eyes to look out before him. That's when it happened.   
                His blue eyes shot open and he stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. He could see her walking towards the gym, her long brown hair tied in two low, loose pigtails. He knew her familiar footfalls, the way that her short skirt moved as she stepped.   
                He turned and darted back into the bathroom and moaned sickly. His lunch met the dank bathroom floor and he stayed doubled over on the ground for quite some time. It wasn't possible that she was here... That she has somehow crossed into his destiny again. Yet, he'd seen her. Seen the older version of he girl he'd left behind so many years ago. It had been too real to be a mirage. She had actually been there. Tifa Lockheart was on the Midgar Campus.   
               The blonde boy staggered to his feet after a long five minutes and stumbled to the sink. He turned on the cold water and stared at it. This was not what he needed. Not now. Not before he could get his bearings and make a name for himself. He wanted to be known for something, have the name Cloud Strife conjure up some idea of a great upperclassman, head of the varsity teams, homecoming king three years running, the lady's man. Not the scrawny little no-body from out of town.   
                He nearly felt sick again and stooped to the sink. The soft spray of cold water hit his pale face and he began feeling a little better. He sighed and let the spray wash over his face for a long while until the nausea had passed. He slowly stood up, turning off the water. He stayed there in the bathroom for an hour or so until he was ready to chance the outside world again. He grabbed his bag and ran out; sprinting like a wounded bird towards whatever building was closest. He needed to find Zack. ****

The Midgar campus was original in design, a truly modern version of all the schools of the country.  Giving in tot he demand for widespread private schooling, the establishment wasn't only a university but also the elitist of the high schools in the continent, perhaps the world.  There were two sets of students there, some who were fresh out of puberty and those ready to begin life as adults.  Through this unique design, it was revered as great, the students able to pass right from highschool into college-level courses.

                There was another thing that made Midgar great.  IT was the only school known to house classes and training programs for whatever type of major there was.  Those wishing to pass through the police academy were treated to the elitist version, the SOLDIER program.  Drilled in all the necessities for policing, the SOLDIERs were ready to be placed into high ranking positions of the army, navy, or marines.  For those wanting to be in the air force, there was no better place than Midgar.  With its own miniature runway and hangar, the campus sported one of the best flight schools in the business.  It didn't stop there.  The department continued into aeronautics and space engineering.  Truly, the sky was not the limit.

                For those less ready to leap into such extremities, the usual slew of students could easily major in things such as journalism and art.  There was an agriculture department and even things as simple as small business management.  In contrast, one could also major in corporate management.  Such a major was the set for the Headmaster's son, Rufus.  The boy was shipped straight from a prestigious school nearly a continent away.  Such was life.

                In and of itself, the Midgar School for Talented Youth was almost entirely self-sufficient.  Its agriculture department and the refineries made it easy to keep the students fed.  Once every three months, the stores of non-organic foodstuffs would be delivered, brought in through the train station just outside the campus.  Even the electricity was confined within the property, the entire place running on the new and controversial Mako energy.  There were eight major reactors, all se to the campus limits near the low budget dormitories, each bearing the simple name of Sector and the number of the reactor it was nearest, Sector 1 through Sector 8.  Across the rest of the campus, more reactors could be sighted, though each considerably smaller and less necessary.  In fact, almost every dormitory had a reactor, bar Corel House, who seemed completely appalled to the idea.  Support was gradually growing, though, for installation.

                This year was a new step for Headmaster Shinra.  In its slew of invitations, the school had taken in some of the simpler types of student, taking in those with little promise to those with only diplomas to hold them back.  It had accepted fewer SOLDIER candidates this year.  This was probably due to another factional group of equally elite warmongers, affectionately called the Turks.  These housed only four at most and the competition was fierce.  One would have to study years to even be a consideration and many more years of grueling training sessions and the like before candidacy was certain.  Even after that, the only way one could rise to the position was if an existing Turks was somehow deemed unfit for the job or was incapacitated.  The current three were happy where they were.

                The teaching staff was opposed to such a wide variety of skill levels (not to mention monetary values) of the new students but they were easily silenced by the Headmaster.  Of late, he was disconcerted with their ideas, instead seeming partial to the science departments.  No one really knew why, other than the three of them.  And none were telling.

                As they way the campus was set up, the SOLDIER barracks were just outside the ring of 'slums.'  The slums were known as such due to their low rent.  They housed, normally, those unable to pay for both housing and expensive majors at the same time.  While the Sector dorms were the places dreams were made, most never made it out of them.  If the cost of their learning was that heavy as to force them into such inhospitable conditions, financial security almost never recurred.  It was a sad, but true, fact.

                Ironically, the most expensive dorms were neighboring, just down the road from these slums.  This was where the aristocrats of the student population stayed, their importance much too high to be bothered with common teenagers.  These were known as the Shinra dormitories, an obvious crack at being the proprietor's favourites.

                There were only two exceptions to this unspoken rule.  They were, respectively, the Turks, for lack of lodging elsewhere, and a stupid young girl who was an unfortunate weaponry prodigy and expert in 'bedroom arts.'  It was rumoured that that was how she came to rest under the title Shinra.

                Being of almost equal importance, the SOLDIER barracks were just outside of the Shinra dorms, across the street and a few blocks away from the slums.  They were almost always packed to the brim, the upperclassmen getting the choice rooms before the lowerclassman and high school agers even arrived.  They also took the liberty of emptying the vending machines before the younger students arrived.

                The machines were in the lobby, along with the sign-up sheets.  It was there that Cloud found himself, the blue attired trainees greeting him warmly.

                "High school froshies belong in the living assignment room in the main building."

                "That means get the hell out."

                Though still sick over Tifa, Cloud felt insulted.  And rightfully so.  He hated it when people misjudged his age for his height.  He had tried since he was young to remedy that by spiking up his hair.  Though his hair grew longer and stood taller, his stature almost never grew to match it.  Puberty had left the junior at 5'7" and none too happy.

                "I'm here looking for Zack Knightblade, not to get pushed around by you guys." he snapped, crossing his arms.  The SOLDIERs looked between each other, laughing.  The boy felt foolish.  Though he was looking for Zack still, he had ducked in here from fear.  His mouth puckered sourly and he crossed his arm.

                The first young man to speak leaned back, looking around the corner.  He waved to someone, still chuckling to himself.  "Hey..." he called obnoxiously, his voice sing-songy.  "Get Hedgehog Boy to come look at this little present the cat dragged in!"  Both blue-uniformed students began laughing hysterically, another voice echoing similar sounds from down the hall.  Cloud growled.

                "AND..." he began, puffing out his chest.  "I'm here to sign up for SOLDIER training."  As an afterthought, he could probably impress everyone by becoming a SOLDIER, while he was at it.  Then he'd be able to talk to Tifa without conversing with his lunch at the same time.

                "That is certainly a good thing to hear."

                The blonde turned, looking straight into the neck of the man behind him.  He growled softly, the SOLDIER member behind him beginning to laugh again.  He looked up, ready to scream.  Taking his own advice, he did.  And at the same time, jumped up and threw his arms around the newcomer's neck.

                "Hey, kid!" he laughed, a little ruffled.

                "Zack!" Cloud fairly squealed, his lean arms squeezing the SOLDIER tightly.  "I've been looking all over for you!"

                The two at the sign up desk had ceased laughing, presumably by Zack's entrance and acceptance of the boy.  Not only had he not made any crack about size or stature, he was ruffling the junior's hair rather affectionately.  They talked back and forth like small children back in class again after summer break.  The original two blinked at each other, wordlessly picking up the forms for admittance.

                "Hey..."

                "So, you wanted to sign up?"


	3. Honours Courses

[[Author's Note --- HA.]]

                The afternoon had turned crisp, the late autumn wind wasting no time in picking up and scattering the last of the leaves across the ground.  Most were indoors by this time, having found and been assigned their dormitories and busy fighting with their roommates or unpacking in the privacy that being older brought.

               The first few nights, most had camped out in the auditorium, placing their bags close by and curling up with their mandatory pillows.  Some had wandered off early, like Cloud had, intent on joining the ranks of SOLDIER or the Shinra armed forces.  As the processing went, however, certain groups were welcomed more readily and more quickly were assigned their rooms.  The first to be taken into account, naturally, were those staying in the elusive Shinra dorm.

                To say that the Headmaster was a bit stuck-up would be blasphemy, but to call him fair was far from the truth.  His personal opinion went further than actual merit and when the students assigned to the Shinra dorm began converging on the location, that became painfully obvious.

                "..and the blonde?"

                "Everyone calls her Scarlet.  Weapons development."

                "...you can major in that?"

                "She's a business major, of course, but that's why she's really here.  Because your father is interested to see what sort of ideas she can draw up."

                "...or is it her daring hemline..."

                Rufus rolled his eyes to punctuate his disgust, shaking his head slightly.  He and the Turks had arranged to meet beneath a singular tree a little way from the dorm, watching the door and those going in it.  The Shinra heir had always had a bit of a snobbish streak and if he wasn't impressed, he wasn't staying.  He didn't care what his father thought.

                What the boy thought of his father, though, wasn't unknown.  He readily insulted the man in his calculated, icy tones, usually not even sparing the man time to avert his attention.  Something burned inside Rufus that cause him to seethe when his father was mentioned, something that he never disclosed but that everyone noticed.  Tseng, of all people, was used to this, and secretly, he had to agree.  He wasn't fond of the man himself.

                A lot of rather generic people had filtered into the building, all shapes and sizes, though somehow all painfully alike.  Business majors, medical students, scientist wannabes and every manner of would-be politician, all of the real clean-hands job-holders-to-be that the campus was famous for.  It made Rufus sick, all these miserable excuses for business majors.  He knew all the ones who needed knowing and the rest... were just cluttering his dormitory.

                "What about the fat one."

                "...Heidegger?  I believe that's it.  He prefers no one call him by his first name.  He's actually the head of the policing division, if I remember correctly.  Not to bright, but at least motivated to his work."

                "Posing as a business major."

                "Sub-major."

                "Somehow that seems worse."

                An apple core fell then, nearly hitting Rufus on its descent.  He glanced at it, following the invisible trail it left in the air to the source from whence it came.  Reno was still climbing around in the branches, having eaten the apple he stole from the dining hall that morning and dropping it without a second thought.  

                _I'll hide out there all the time, just you watch._

_                Why would you want to?  It's... a tree._

_                I can smoke up there, I bet.  An' they'd never even think of it!_

                It was like a little boy talking of building a treehouse and only succeeding in nailing up the first piece of wood.  His sheer amount of childish energy was exhausting to everyone around him and coupled with his wonderful habit of using adult language and ideas, made him borderline infuriating all the time.

                That's how Tseng felt on the matter, at least.  He was tempted to say something when the core fell, tempted to just reach up and snap the branch he could see the redhead's foot holding against and watch him fall from the corner of his eye.  That would be stooping to levels, though.

                "And why aren't we in our suite, Mr. Shinra?  Turks?"

                The blonde didn't bother turning, closing his eyes against his churning dislike.  There were a handful of people he could not stand at any length, lead without question by his father.  But a close second was Professor Hojo.

                It wasn't so much how Hojo looked or dressed, how he intended to waste the rest of his life or the fact that he was ready to be nerd-of-the-year.  It was the way he spoke to everyone.  The way he regarded how people were, as a whole, and the individual worth of everyone therein.  And he was always polite, hollow as it was.

                "I'm not sure I'm staying, Hojo.  Regardless of whether or not it's your business to know or my obligation to stay."

                Hojo chuckled softly, standing just a little away from Rufus and staring at the doorway and the thin trickle of students entering.  He was a good bit shorter than both Rufus and Tseng, but looking over his glasses before speaking to them wasn't part of that package.  He always looked at people over his glasses, giving him some sort of haughty air, despite his humble nature.

                "It is my business, though.  You see, your father's medical and scientific research departments are mostly housed here in this dormitory.  As such, it's my duty to be near them and to teach them when classes begin next week.  I'll be staying here too and as a teacher, I will be in charge of you all and reporting on what you're doing.  So, please be more considerate."

                "Don't call me 'Mr. Shinra' again."

                Rufus opened his eyes, allowing them to only narrowly regard Hojo from the side.  His face remained expressionless, marble and cold as his voice.

                "Furthermore, you are only a few years older than me and as being such, I'm incline to disregard your position and tell you to stay out of my business."

                The professor chuckled again, the edges of his thin lips pulling up slightly.  His gaunt facial structure always made his expressions look a tad worse than they were intended and when he smiled, he looked a tad depraved.

                It was a shame, really, considering his youth and potential for physical attraction.  It wasn't that he tried to dissuade people from approaching him, more that he just didn't honestly care.  His hair was clean cut around his high cheeks, straight as a bone and a deep brown tone, though one could only assume the former for his rumpled appearance.  He did wear glasses and in the oddest way, obscuring his mustard-coloured eyes where they sat on the end of his nose.  He was pale and lanky, rumoured to be because of his experiments and bad habit of testing on himself.  In reality, it was probably closer to being too wrapped up to remember to eat.  Any way you cut it, though, he had the potential that he could be something worth interest.  He just didn't honestly give a damn.

                Furthermore, standing next to perfect Rufus Shinra wasn't helping in the least.

                "You'll change you tune soon enough.  There's a reason that I am where I am to-day.  It's a shame you didn't apply yourself as well."

                Before Rufus could reply, Hojo was off, hands clasped behind his back, heading toward the building in question.  Both tree-standers watched him go, as if blinking would mean he would return to their sides.  Once safely tucked inside, the blonde sighed visibly, running an agitated hand through his hair.

                "You aren't the only one who finds his company appalling."

                The Shinra boy looked to Tseng, confirming it was he who had agreed and then nodded himself, not really questioning the reassurance.  He shifted slightly, switching his jacket from one arm to the other.

                "I don't care.  I will never respect him and he knows I won't."

                "Don't let him get to you.  He's just using the power your father gave him."

                "They can both rot, for all I care."

                "That's not very nice."

                "Have I ever claimed to be?"

                The interior of the dorm was disarray, bags and suitcases and random article that wouldn't fit into the aforementioned items were littered around the common room, no rhyme or reason to their placement and half seemingly forgotten completely.  It didn't seem easy to find one's room; the sheer number of hallways and floors enough to baffle just about everyone.  It was somewhat wonderful.

                Hojo stepped around an oversized stuffed dog and the suitcase it seemed to be guarding, calmly parting the semi-chaos as he walked and smiling sickly at the dozens of milling, bewildered students.  Some were arguing about what floor their slip said they were on, others were wishing they were home with their families, some just wanted somewhere to put their things so they could try and catch a late lunch.  Whatever the reason, they were all ending up right where they began and the point of Hojo's continued amusement.

                The professor slithered his way through the knots of students, making way to the stairwell.  He chuckled to himself at the ignorant fools who were all standing in the elevator and wondering why it wasn't going up.  He almost felt like interrupting their idiocy to inform them of this, but in the end, he just began his long walk upward towards the laboratory and staff floors.

                His footsteps echoed in the cavernous stairwell, tapping lightly with every ascending step and reverberating into obscurity.  His mind was already dwelling in other locations and on other things, subconsciously counting the steps as he climbed as to not interrupt himself with checking the floor number.  He'd done this for a month now, mapping out the entire building by his stride and programming it into his head, as not to bother himself with such things while he was thinking.

                The topic of thought was lying upon forming some sort of need for Rufus to respect him, some form of innocent blackmail that could keep the boy in line.  He wondered silently if the blonde was jealous of him, of the way his father had spent almost all waking hours with him in the past few years, paying for him to attend college and skip highschool all together and then even afterwards, working with him in tow on the very Midgar campus itself.  Wouldn't that just be hilarious?

                Two hundred seventy-five, seventy-six, seventy-seven...

                Hojo turned, slipping through the doorway leading out into the hall.  Pets weren't allowed on campus, were they?  Well, that would be it then.  That would be how he pinned Rufus for at least one favour.  He chuckled to itself, the echoes replying to him and giving him the recognition he deserved.  He'd made his first big step, getting here and a job, teaching people close enough to his own age to count on one hand, all that was left was to get things squared away and to do something amazing or groundbreaking.  Something to write home about, so to speak.

                "Which means to get rid of you, Gast."

                "...what about Gast?"

                The scientist frowned a little, turning to look behind him.  A girl was peering out of one of the staff rooms, a look of buried hope in her face.  He looked what he could see of her over, not finding her to have any readily available deformity to speak of.  She was obviously a student.

                "You're probably going to be his pupil and should not be near this floor until you are summoned for classes next week.  Before you mess anything up, I suggest you go back downstairs and start looking for your room in a different manner."

                The girl furrowed her cinnamon coloured eyebrows, stepping out into the hall.  She was wearing a Shinra labcoat, a clipboard clutched to her chest in a sort of nervous habit.  Her long brown hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and away from her confused features.

                "I.. I'm sorry.  This is my floor, though, I'm sure of it.  The Headmaster showed me here himself, looking for Professor Hojo and Professor Gast.  I don't think it's a mistake."

                "Why was the Headmaster looking for Hojo and Gast?"  Curiosity was getting the better of him.  Besides the fact that he was finding the girl subtly charming in her hopeful honesty.

                "He had some sort of agenda for the first set of experiments.  And he wanted to assign Professor Gast an assistant."

                "Mn.  You don't say.  What about these experiments?"

                The girl glanced down at her clipboard, not pulling it from her chest, but rather just reassuring herself of what she already knew.

                "He wants them to teach about the properties of Mako and begin experiments with it and organic lifeforms.  He said he had further but didn't want to disclose the project to anyone but them."

                Without so much as a thank you, Hojo turned and began walking back the way he intended, slinking down the hall at his same pace as if he'd never stopped.  He almost ignored the approaching footsteps and as they slowed next to him, he nearly didn't stop at all.  Somehow he thought it would be wiser to just humour the girl.

                "Wait, do you know where I could find one of them?  I really need to deliver this to them and find out where I'm working."

                The scientist snatched the clipboard, flipping through the first few pages and then placing it in one of the large pockets on his labcoat.  The girl was ready to protest, the sound catching in her throat as he addressed her directly, looking over his glasses in disdain.

                "I am Professor Hojo, Gast is somewhere else doing something else and I don't honestly care at the moment what or where.  Thank you for giving me the clipboard and now I'd like to ask you to please leave this floor and find your correct hall."

                She looked stunned a minute but gave a small bow of the head, her hands closing around Hojo's at the same time.  His eyes automatically narrowed, even as the puzzled, hopeless expression on the girl's face melted into a smile.

                "Oh, good!  I've been looking for one of you for hours now and I was beginning to wonder if I didn't have the wrong building!"  She paused, laughing slightly at her own outburst.  "I'm sorry...  My name's Lucrecia.  I'll be working here with the two of you while I study."

                Hojo had a dozen insulting things to say to this girl, ready to fire off each in succession that would leave her stunned for several moments before she began to cry.  He opted against it, retrieving his hand and resuming his pace.

                "If that's the case, Lucrecia, I suppose I'll have to show you around this level and hope we find Gast."  From the corner of his eyes, the professor caught a glimpse of Lucrecia's warm smile and the relieved tilt of her eyebrows.

                "Thank you, sir."

                   It took forever for Rude to return from his errand, his well-paced strides not getting him anywhere within any amount of time. He did finally arrive, an envelope in hand. Reno was the first to spot him, alerting everyone else by swinging down from the tree and nearly taking off Tseng's head in the process. He was overeager, true, but he had a good reason.   
                   Rude was brandishing the keys to the suite.   
                   He sprinted over the second he was on solid ground, circling the shaven Turk and firing off half a million questions. Where was it, was it at the top of the building, how many rooms did it have, when is he gonna give out the goddamned keys, can we go get food? The elder of the pair said nothing in reply until he reached the others beneath the tree. The redhead wasn't all that amused. He vaulted off the ground and his arms wrapped around the taller Turk's neck. He hung there, sinking his teeth into Rude's shoulder and growling around the mouthfull of cloth.   
                   "Gimme a fuckin' key, let's go, let's go!"   
                   "I'm not sure we're staying Reno, so I suggest you calm down."   
                   Rufus shook his head, taking the envelope from Rude and shaking a key into his hand. He turned to the building and gave it one more scan before pocketing the key.   
                   "Yes, we're going in. But I'm steadily building reason to leave now and we'll all be back home before you can say 'Sector 7 Trainstation.'"   
                   That said, the blonde slipped the rest of the keys, still in their envelope, into his pocket. He readjusted the jacket on his shoulders and nodded slightly to Tseng, moving past him towards the dorm. Reno made one last outstretched grab and then settled back, wrapping his legs around Rude's waist. Unfettered by his newly acquired cargo, Rude fell into line behind the others and following silently.   
                   The bustled of the commonroom was still in full swing and no one cared that Rufus was the headmaster's son now. That became quite certain as the stout little green suited student, identified as Heidegger, pushed past him and knocked him clear off his feet. The blonde fell backwards, saving himself and none of his dignity with a desperate grab to Rude's jacket. He swung slightly, hitting him in the knees and falling completely to the floor afterwards. Rude swayed slightly, taking a step backwards to keep his balance, and stared down at the boy at his feet.   
                   "Out of my way."   
                   Heidegger's grunt was the last of him as he disappeared from sight into the mesh of bewildered students. Tseng made a brief grab for him, darting back and forth in a futile attempt at following him with his eyes, before settling back onto his heels again with a soft growl. Rude, meanwhile, had offered a hand to Rufus, who denied it for some bit of pride and stood up himself.   
                   "We're leaving."   
                   Tseng turned, blinking in a slight state of shock at the sudden decision. Even Rude couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, his usual silence still in place. The oriental-featured Turk shook his head a little, as if chasing the surprise from his expression, stepping towards the injured business major.   
                   "Shouldn't we at least look at the suite? It's hectic down here right now and it'll be better after everyone else finds their rooms." He paused, gaging how his reasoning was going over. It wasn't. "We can just stay up there until it's time for classes. Nothing says we have to interact with them."   
                   "I won't do it." Rufus replied, shaking his head and turning for the door. "I've seen enough to convince me I don't want anything to do with my father's idiotic notion. We're going back home to finish at some sort of respectable school."   
                   The blonde kept moving, walking straight and haughty as ever. It wasn't unnoticed when the jacket slipped from his grasp, pulling from his loose fingers. He turned sharply, finding only the back of Rude's head to accuse. Reno was gone, now standing closer to the ebony-haired boy.   
                   "No way, Rufie. I'm goin' up there, I'm checkin' in and I'm ridin' this for all it's worth. You can go ahead and try to stop me."   
                   The redhead darted away, slipping into the crowd as Heidegger had and working his way for the stairwell. Unlike the dwarf-esque student, his red hair was easy to follow, though physically was another story entirely.   
                   "Reno! Get back here, we're leaving! RENO!"   
                   The business major's eyes were burning with a sort of cold fire, the defiance adding more insult to his injury. He was willing some sort of heavy object to fall from the sky and land right on top of the redhead, thoroughly and completely crushing him beyond recognition. But, naturally, there was no such good luck and no matter what he was willing to happen, it wasn't. And it was obvious.   
                   "...we're leaving without him, then."   
                   Rude's eyebrow joined the other, both peeking over his sunglasses in suprise. He looked for a moment like he had something to say, but it got lost on the way to his mouth and he just stared from behind the shaded glass.   
                   "...we can't just leave without him."   
                   The blonde narrowed his eyes on Tseng, meeting the cool grey with his own frigid blue. His hatred was turned without dampening on the older Turk, wordless and fine as being such.   
                   "I'm leaving NOW. If you aren't coming with me, you might as well just stay here for eternity, you are NOT coming near me again."   
                   Tseng closed his eyes, a mental count to ten running by in a loop. He turned, calmly walking towards where Reno had gone, Rude following behind him. Rufus gaped, his anger slipping into more of a complete bewilderment and shock. His lips moved a few moments before his senses arrived to put sound to them.   
                   "What are you DOING?!"   
                   "...there aren't any more trains to-day. You might as well come up to the suite. Unless, of course, you want to sleep in the auditorium."   
                   With that, the remaining blue suits were gone, sliding into the stairwell and walking upwards. The Shinra boy turned, stalking toward the double doors, intent on leaving still. He paused, his hand resting on the push-bar, mind milling around what had just transpired. He growled softly, whirling on his heels and running after his roommates. Logic had prevailed. 


End file.
